Delivered on Lord's-day Morning, July 23rd, 1871, by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Yea, he is altogether lovely."–Song of Solomon 5:16.
WHEN THE OLD PURITAN MINISTER had delivered his discourse, and dwelt
upon firstly, and secondly, and thirdly, and perhaps upon
twenty-fifthly, before he sat down he usually gave a comprehensive
summary of all that he had spoken. Every one who carefully noted the
summary would carry away the essence of the sermon. The summary was
always looked upon by the Puritan hearer as one of the most valuable
helps to memory, and consequently a most important part of the
discourse. In these five words the spouse here gives you her summary.
She had delivered a tenfold discourse concerning her Lord; she had
described in detail all his various beauties, and when she had surveyed
him from head to foot, she gathered up all her commendations in this
sentence: "Yea, he is altogether lovely." Remember these words, and
know their meaning, and you possess the quintessence of the spouse's
portion of the Song of Songs. Now, as in this allegorical song, the
bride sums up her witness in these words, so may I say that all the
patriarchs, all the prophets, all the apostles, all the confessors,
yea, and the entire body of the church have left us no other testimony.
They all spoke of Christ, and they all commended him. Whatever the
type, or symbol, or obscure oracle, or open word in which they bore
witness, that witness all amounted to this: "Yea, He is altogether
lovely." Yes, and I will add, that since the canon of inspiration has
closed, the testimony of all saints, on earth and in heaven, has
continued to confirm the declaration made of old. The verdict of each
particular saint and of the whole elect host as a body, still is this,
"Yea, he is altogether lovely." From the sighs and the songs which
mingle on the dying beds of saints, I hear this note supreme above all
others, "He is altogether lovely;" and from the songs unmingled with
groans, which perpetually peal forth from immortal tongues before the
presence of the Most High, I hear this one master note. "Yea, he is
altogether lovely." If the whole church desired to say with the
apostle, "Now of the things which we have spoken this is the sum," she
need not wait for a brief and comprehensive summary, for it lies before
her in this golden sentence, "Yea, he is altogether lovely."
Looking at my text in this light I felt much humbling of spirit, and I
hesitated to preach upon it, for I saith in my heart, "It is high, I
cannot attain unto it." These deep texts show us the shortness of our
plumb-line; these ocean verses are so exceeding broad that our skiffs
are apt to be driven far out of sight of land where our timid spirits
tremble to spread the sail. Then I comforted myself by the thought that
though I could not comprehend this text in a measure, nor weigh its
mountains in scales, or its hills in a balance, yet it was all mine
own, by the gift of divine grace, and therefore I need not fear to
enter upon the meditation of it. If I cannot grasp the ocean in my
span, yet may I bathe therein with sweet content; if I cannot describe
the king in his beauty, yet may I gaze upon him, since the old proverb
saith, "A beggar may look at a prince." Though I pretend not so to
preach from such a heavenly word as that before us, as to spread before
you all its marrow and fatness, yet may I gather up a few crumbs which
fall from its table. Poor men are glad of crumbs, and crumbs from such
a feast are better than loaves from the tables of the world. Better to
have a glimpse of Jesus, than to see all the glory of the earth all the
days of our life. If we fail on this subject we may do better than if
we succeeded upon another; so we will pluck up courage, seek divine
help, and draw near to this wondrous text, with our shoes from off our
feet like Moses when he saw the bush aglow with God.
This verse has been translated in another way: "He is all desires;" and
so indeed Jesus is. He was the desire of the ancients, he is the desire
of all nations still. To his own people he is their all in all; they
are complete in him; they are filled out of his fullness.
"All our capacious powers can wish,
In him doth richly meet."
He is the delight of his servants, and fills their expectations to the
full. But we will not dispute about translations, for, after all, with
such a text, so full of unutterable spiritual sweetness, every man must
be his own translator, and into his own soul must the power of the
message come, by the enforcement of the Holy Ghost. Such a test as this
is very like the manna which fell in the wilderness, of which the
rabbis say it tasted after each man's liking. If the flavour in a man's
mouth was very sweetness, the angel's food which fell around the camp
was luscious as any dainty he had conceived; whatever he might be, the
manna was to him as he was. So shall this text be. To you with low
ideas of Christ the words shall but glide over your ears, and be
meaningless; but if your spirit be ravished with the precious love of
Jesus there shall be songs of angels, and more than that, the voice of
God's own Spirit to your soul in this short sentence, "Yea, he is
altogether lovely."
I am an engraver this morning, and I seek somewhat whereon I may
engrave this heavenly line. Shall I take unto me ivory or silver? Shall
I borrow crystal or gold? These are too common to bear this unique
inscription: I put them all aside. Shall I spell my text in gems, with
an emerald, a sapphire, a ruby, a diamond, or a pearl for each single
letter? Nay, these are poor perishable things: we put them all away. I
want an immortal spirit to be the tablet for my writing; nay, I must
lay aside my graving tool, and ask the Spirit of God to take it: I want
a heart prepared of the Holy Ghost, upon whose fleshy tablets there
shall be written this morning no other sentence than this, and this
shall suffice for a right royal motto to adorn it well: "Yea, he is
altogether lovely." Spirit of God, find out the prepared heart, and
with thy sacred hand write in eternal characters the love of Christ,
and all his inimitable perfections.
In handling our text this morning we shall note three points of
character, and then we shall show three uses to which we may profitably
turn it.
I. We shall consider THREE POINTS OF CHARACTER which are very
noticeable in these words, and the first which suggests itself is this:
the words are evidently uttered by one who is under the influence of
overwhelming emotion. The words are rather a veil to the heart than a
glass through which we see its emotions. The sentence labors to express
the inexpressible; it pants to utter the unutterable. The person
writing these words evidently feels a great deal more than any language
can possibly convey to us. The spouse begins somewhat calmly in her
description: "My beloved is white and ruddy." She proceeds with due
order, commencing at the head, and proceeding with the divers parts of
the person of the Beloved but she warms, she glows, she flames, and at
last the heat which had for awhile been repressed is like fire within
her bones, and she bursts forth in flaming words. Here is the live coal
from off the altar of her heart: "Yea, he is altogether lovely." It is
the utterance of a soul that is altogether overcome with admiration,
and therefore feels that in attempting to describe the Well-beloved, it
has undertaken a task beyond its power. Lost in adoring wonder, the
gracious mind desists from description, and cries with rapture, "Yea,
he is altogether lovely." It has often been thus with true saints; they
have felt the love of Jesus to be overpowering and inebriating.
Believers are not always cool and calm in their thoughts towards their
Lord: there are seasons with them when they pass into a state of
rapture, their hearts burn within them, they are in ecstacy, they mount
up with wings as eagles, their souls become like the chariots of
Amminadib, they feel what they could not tell, they experience what
they could not express though the tongues of men and of angels were
perfectly at their command. Favored believers are altogether enraptured
with the sight they have of their all-beauteous Lord. It is to be
feared that such raptures are not frequent with all Christians, though
I should gravely question his saintship, who has never experienced any
degree of holy rapture: but there are some saints to whom a state of
overwhelming adoration of their Lord has been by no means an unusual
thing. Communion with Jesus has not only entranced them now and then,
but it has perfumed all their life with holiness; and if it has not
caused their faces literally to shine like the face of Moses, it has
made the spiritual glory to flash from their countenances, and elevated
them among their fellow Christians to be leaders of the host of God,
whereat others have admired and wondered. Peradventure, I speak to
children of God who know very little of what I mean by the overwhelming
emotions created by a sight of our Lord; they have not so seen the Lord
as to have felt their souls melting within them while the Beloved spake
with them; to such I shall speak with sorrowful sympathy, being, alas!
too much like unto them, but my prayer shall go up all the while,
"Lord, reveal thyself to us, that we also may be compelled to say, Yea,
he is altogether lovely.' Show us thy hands and thy side till we
exclaim with Thomas, My Lord and my God.'"
Shall I tell you why it is, my brethren, that many of you but seldom
enjoy the exceeding bliss of Jesus' presence? The cause may lie partly
in what is, alas! too common among Christians, a great degree of
ignorance of the person of the Lord Jesus. Every soul that sees Jesus
by faith is saved thereby. If I look to Christ with a bleared eye, that
is ever so weak and clouded with tears, and if I only catch a glimpse
of him through clouds and mists, yet the sight saves me. But who will
remain content with such a poor gleam of his glory as that? Who wishes
to see only "through a glass, darkly"? No, let my eyes be cleansed till
they become as doves by the rivers of waters, and I can see my Lord as
he is seen by his bosom friends, and can sing of those beauties which
are the light and crown of heaven itself. If you do but touch the hem
of Jesus' garment, you shall be made whole; but will this always
satisfy you? Will you not desire to get beyond the hem and beyond the
garment, to himself, and to his heart, and there for ever take up your
abode? Who desires to be for ever a babe in grace, with a half-awakened
dreamy twilight consciousness by the Redeemer? Brethren, be diligent in
the school of the cross, therein is enduring wisdom. Study your Savior
much. The science of Christ crucified is the most excellent of
sciences; and to know him and the power of his resurrection, is to know
that which is best worth knowing. Ignorance of Jesus deprives many
saints of those divine raptures which carry others out of themselves,
therefore let us be among those children of Zion who are taught of the
Lord.
Next to this you shall find the want of meditation to be a very serious
robber of the wealth of renewed hearts. To believe a thing is, as it
were, to see the cool crystal sparkling in the cup; but to meditate
upon it is to drink thereof. Reading gathers the clusters,
contemplation squeezes forth their generous juice. Meditation is of all
things the most soul-fattening when combined with prayer. The spouse
had meditated much in this chapter, for otherwise she had not been able
to speak in detail concerning her Lord. O saintly hearts, imitate ye
her example! Think, my brethren, of our Lord Jesus: he is God, the
Eternal, the Infinite, the ever blessed; yet he became man for us–man
of the substance of his mother, like ourselves. Meditate upon his
spotless character; review the sufferings which he endured on Calvary;
follow him into the grave, and from the grave to the resurrection, and
from the resurrection up the starry way to his triumphant throne. Let
your souls dwell upon each of his offices, as prophet, priest, and
king; pore over each one of his characters, and every scriptural title;
pause and consider every phase of him, and when you have done this,
begin again and yet again. It is good to chew the cud by meditation,
then shall the sweetness and fatness of divine truth come to your soul,
and you shall burst forth with such rapturous expressions as that of
the text, "Yea, he is altogether lovely." The most of you are too busy,
you have too much to do in the world; but; what is it all about?
Scraping together dust, loading yourselves with thick clay. O that you
were busy after the true riches, and could step aside awhile to enrich
yourselves in solitude, and make your hearts vigorous by feeding upon
the person and work of your ever blessed Lord! You miss a heaven below
by a too eager pursuit of earth. You cannot know these joyful raptures
if meditation be pushed into a corner.
Another reason why little of the Lord's beauty is discerned, is the low
state of the spiritual life in many a Christian. Many a believer is
just alive and no more. Do you not know such starveling souls? May you
not be one such yourself! His eyes are not delighted with the beauties
of Christ, he is purblind, and cannot see afar off; he walks not with
Jesus in the garden of pomegranates, he is too feeble to rise from the
couch of weakness; he cannot feed upon Christ, his appetite is
gone–sure sign of terrible decline. For him there are no climbings to
the top of Amana, no leaping for joy in the temple, no dancing before
the ark with David; no, if he be but carried to the feet of Jesus in an
ambulance as a sick man borne of four, it is as much as he has yet
received. To be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, to
have the wings of eagles with which to mount above the clouds of earth,
to this many are strangers. But beloved, there are noble spirits and
better taught, who know something of the life of heaven even while here
below. The Lord strengthen us with grace in our inner man, and then
shall we drink deeper draughts of the wines on the lees well refined,
and then also our eyes being open, we shall see Jesus more clearly, and
bear fuller witness that he is "fairer than the children of men."
I am afraid that the visits of Christ to our souls have been
disesteemed, and the loss of those visits has not caused us
corresponding sorrow. We did not sufficiently delight in the beauty of
the Bridegroom when he did come to us; when our hearts were somewhat
lifted up with his love we grew cold and idle and then he withdrew his
conscious presence; but, alas! we were not grieved, but we wickedly
tried to live without him. It is wretched work for a believer to try
and live without his Savior. Perhaps, dear brethren, some of you have
tried it until at last you have almost succeeded. You were wont to
mourn like doves if you had no word from your Master in the morning,
and without a love-token before you went to rest you tossed uneasily
upon your bed; but now you are carnal and worldly, and careless, and
quite content to have it so. Jesus hides his face, the sun is set, and
yet it is not night with you. O may God be pleased to arouse you from
this lethargy, and make you mourn your sad estate! Even if an
affliction should be needful to bring you back from your backsliding it
would be a cheap price to pay. Awake, O north wind, with all thy
cutting force, if thy bleak breath may but stir the lethargic heart!
May the Lord grant us grace so to love Christ that if we have not our
fill of him, we may be ready to die with hungering and thirsting after
him. May we never be able to find a place to build our nest upon while
our wing wanders away from the tree of life. Like the dove of Noah, may
we drop into the water and be drowned sooner than find rest for the
sole of our foot except upon the ark, Christ Jesus, our Savior.
Beloved, if none of these suggestions should hit the mark, and reveal
the cause why so little is known of rapturous love to Christ, let me
suggest another. Very often professors' hearts are vain and frivolous;
they are taken up during the week with their business. This might plead
some excuse; but when they have little spaces and intervals these are
filled up with very vanity. Now, if the soul has come to look at the
mere trifles of this world as all-important, is it any marvel that it
should be unable to perceive the exceeding preciousness of Christ
Jesus? Who will care for the wheat when he dotes on the chaff? And with
this it will often happen that the professor's mind has grown proud as
well as vain; he does not remember his natural poverty and meanness,
and consequently does not value the riches of Christ Jesus. He has come
to think himself an established, experienced Christian; he fancies that
he is not like those foolish beginners who are so volatile and so
readily led astray; he has acquired the wisdom of years and the
stability of experience. O soul, if thou art great, Christ will be
little; thou canst never see him on the throne until thou hast been on
the dunghill thyself. If thou be anything, so much the less is Christ;
for if he be all in all, then there is no room for anything else and if
thou be something, thou hast stolen just so much from the glory of thy
Lord Jesus. Lie low in the dust, it is the place for thee.
"The more thy glories strike my eyes,
The humbler I shall lie."
The humbler I am in myself, the more shall I be capable of seeing the
enchanting beauties of Christ.
Let me just say these two or three words. I believe those are the
happiest saints who are most overwhelmed with a sense of the greatness,
goodness, and preciousness of Christ. I believe these to be the most
useful saints, also, and to be in the Christian church as a tower of
strength. I pray that you and I, walking with God by faith, may
nevertheless often have our festival days, our notable seasons, when he
shall specially bless us with the kisses of his love, and we shall
drink larger draughts of his love, which is better than wine. Oh! to be
carried right away with the divine manifestation of the chief among ten
thousand, so that our souls shall cry out in rapture, "Yea, he is
altogether lovely." This is one characteristic of the text: may it be
transferred to us.
2. A second is this, and very manifest it is upon the surface of the
verse–here is undivided affection. "He is altogether lovely." Note
that these words have a world of meaning in them, but chiefly they tell
us this, that Jesus is to the true saint the only lovely one in the
world. "He is altogether lovely;" then there is no loveliness anywhere
else. It is as though the spouse felt that Christ had engrossed all the
beauty and all the loveworthiness in the entire universe. Who among us
will say that she erred? Is not Jesus worthy of all the admiration and
love of all intelligent beings? But may we not love our friends and
kinsfolk? Ay but in him, and in subservience to him; so, and so only,
is it safe to love them. Did not our Lord himself say, "If any man love
father or mother more than me, he is not worthy of me"? Yea, and in
another place he put it more strongly still, for he said, "Except a man
hate father and mother," or love them not at all in comparison with me,
"he is not worthy of me." Except these are put on a lower stage than
Jesus is we cannot be his disciples. Christ must be monarch in the
breast; our dear ones may sit at his footstool, and we may love them
for his sake, but he alone must fill the throne of our hearts. I may
see excellences in my Christian brethren, but I must not forget that
there would be none in them if they were not derived from him; that
their loveliness is only a part of his loveliness, for he wrought it in
them by his own Spirit. I am to acknowledge that Jesus is the
monopoliser of all loveliness, the engrosser of all that is admirable
in the entire universe; and I am, therefore, to give him all my love,
for "he is altogether lovely."
Our text means, again, that in Jesus loveliness of all kinds is to be
found. If there be anything that is worthy of the love of an immortal
spirit, it is to be seen in abundance in the Lord Jesus. Whatsoever
things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are
just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if
there be any praise, all can be found without measure in Christ Jesus.
As all the rivers meet in the sea, so all beauties unite in the
Redeemer. Take the character of any gracious man, and you shall find a
measure of loveliness, but it has its bounds and its mixtures. Peter
has many virtues, but he has not a few failings. John, too, excels, but
in certain points he is deficient; but herein our Lord transcends all
his saints, for all human virtues, all divine, are harmoniously blended
in him. He is not this flower or that, but he is the Paradise of
perfection. He is not a star here or a constellation there, he is the
whole heaven of stars, nay, he is the heaven of heavens; he is all that
is fair and lovely condensed in one.
When the text says again that Jesus "is altogether lovely," it declares
that he is lovely in all views of him. It generally happens that to the
noblest building there is an unhappy point of view from which the
architecture appears at a disadvantage; the choicest piece of
workmanship may not be equally complete in all directions; the best
human character is deformed by one flaw, if not with more; but with our
Lord all is lovely, regard him as you will. You shall contemplate him
from all points, and only find new confirmation of the statement that
"he is altogether lovely." As the everlasting God before the world was
made, angels loved him and adored; as the babe at Bethlehem or as the
man at Bethany; as walking the sea or as nailed to the cross; in his
grave, dead, and buried, or on his throne triumphant; rising as
forerunner, or descending a second time to judge the world in
righteousness; in his shame, despised and spit upon, or in his glory,
adored and beloved; with the thorns about his brow and the nails
piercing his hands, or with the keys of death and hell swinging at his
girdle; view him as you will, and where you will, and when you will,
"he is altogether lovely." Under all aspects, and in all offices and in
relations, at all times and all seasons, under all circumstances and
conditions, anywhere, everywhere, "he is altogether lovely."
Nor is he in any degree unlovely; the commendation forbids the idea it
he be "altogether lovely," where could you find room for deformity?
When Apelles painted Alexander, he laid the monarch's finger on an
unsightly scar; but there are no scars to conceal when you pourtray the
countenance of Immanuel. We say of our country–and who among us will
not say it?–"With all her faults we love her still;" but we love
Jesus, and find no strain put upon our heart, for trace of fault he has
none. There is no need of apologies for Jesus, no excuses are required
for him. But what is that I see upon his shoulder? It is a hard rough
cross; and if I follow him I must carry that cross for his sake. Is not
that cross unsightly? Oh, no! he is altogether lovely, cross and all.
Whatever it may involve to be a Christian, we count even the reproach
of Christ to be greater riches than the treasures of Egypt. The world
will honor a half Christ, but a whole Christ it will not acknowledge.
The bat's-eyed Socinian saith, "I admire the man Christ, but I will not
adore Jesus the God." To him the eternal word is but half lovely, if
lovely at all. Some will have Christ the exemplar, but they will not
accept him as the vicarious sacrifice for sin, the substitute for
sinners. Many will have Christ in silver slippers–my lord archbishop's
religion–but they would not listen to the gospel from a poor gracious
Methodist, or think it worth their while to join the unlettered throng
whose devout songs rise from the village green. Alas! how much we see
of crosses of gold and ivory, but how little do men love the lowly
cross of Jesus! Brethren, we think Jesus "altogether lovely" even in
poverty, or when hanging naked on the cross, deserted and condemned. We
see unspeakable beauty in Jesus in the grave, all fair with the pallor
of death. Jesus bruised as to his heel by the old serpent is yet
comely. His love to us makes him evermore "white and ruddy" to our eye.
We adore him anywhere and everywhere, and in any place, for we know
that this same Christ whose heel is bruised breaks also the serpent's
head, and he who was naked for our sakes, is now arrayed in glory. We
know that the despised and rejected is also King of kings, and Lord of
lords, the "Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting
Father. The Prince of Peace." "Yea, he is altogether lovely." There are
no flaws in him.
The text intends us to know that Jesus is lovely in the highest degree:
not lovely positively and then failing comparatively, but lovely
superlatively, in the highest possible sense. But I leave this for your
hearts to enlarge upon. I will close this point by saying, every child
of God acknowledges that Christ Jesus is lovely altogether to the whole
of himself. He is lovely to my judgment; but many things are so, and
yet are not lovely to my affections; I know them to be right, and yet
they are not pleasant: but Jesus is as lovely to my heart as to my
head, as dear as he is good. He is lovely to my hopes: are they not all
in him? Is not this my expectation–to see him as he is? But he is
lovely to my memory too: did he not pluck me out of the net? Lovely to
all my powers and all my passions, my faculties and feelings. As David
puts it, "My heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God"–the
whole of the man seeking after the whole of the Savior; the whole
Savior sweet and inexpressibly precious to the man's entire being. May
it be so with you and with me. But is it so? Do you not set up idols in
your hearts? Men of God, do you not need to take the scourge of small
cords, and purge the temple of your souls this morning? Are there not;
buyers and sellers where Christ alone ought to be? Oh, to love him
wholly, and to love him only, so that we have no eyes for other beauty,
no heart for other loveliness since he fills our souls, and is to us
"altogether lovely."
3. The third characteristic of the text is that to which I desire to
draw the most attention, and that is ardent devotion. I called the text
a live coal from off the altar and surely it is so. If it should drop
into our hearts to set them on a blaze, it would be an unspeakable
mercy. Ardent devotion flames from this sentence. It is the language of
one who feels that no emotion is too deep when Jesus moves the heart.
Do any chide you and say you think too much of your religion? It cannot
be, it cannot be. If the zeal of God's house should eat us up until we
had no existence except for the Lord's glory, we should not have gone
too far. If there be corresponding knowledge to balance it, there
cannot be too much of zeal for God. The utterance is that of one whose
heart is like a furnace, of which love is the fire. "He is altogether
lovely"–it is the exclamation of one who feels that no language is too
strong to commend the Lord. The spouse looked through the Hebrew tongue
to find an intense expression, and our translators ransacked the
English language for a forcible word, and they have put it in the most
weighty way–"He is altogether lovely." There is no fear of
exaggeration when you speak of Christ; hyperboles are only sober truth
when we depict his excellences. We have heard of a portrait painter who
owed his popularity to the fact that he never painted truthfully, but
always gave a flatteringly touch or two; here is one who would defy his
art, for it is impossible to flatter Jesus. Lay on, ye men of
eloquence, spare no colors, ye shall never depict him too bravely.
Bring forth your harps, ye seraphs; sing aloud, ye blood-washed ones;
all your praises fall short of the glory which is due to him.
It is the language of one who feels that no service would be too great
to render to the Lord. I wish we felt as the apostles and martyrs and
holy men of old did, that Jesus Christ ought to be served at the
highest and richest rate. We do little, very little: what if I had said
we do next to nothing for our dear Lord and Master nowadays? The love
of Christ doth not constrain us as it should. But those of old bore
poverty and dared reproach, marched weary leagues, passed tempestuous
seas, bore perils of robbers and of cruel men, to plant the cross in
lands where as yet Jesus was not known; labors that nowadays could not
be expected of men, were performed as daily matters of commonplace by
the Christians of the earliest times. Is Christ less lovely, or is his
church less loyal? Would God she estimated him at his right rate, for
then she would return to her former mode of service. Brethren, we want
to feel, and we shall feel if this text is deeply engraven on our
hearts, that no gift is too great for Christ, though we give him all we
have, and consecrate to him all our time and ability, and sacrifice our
very lives to him. No suffering is too great to bear for the sake of
the Crucified, and it is a great joy to be reproached for Christ's
sake. "He is altogether lovely." Then, my soul, I charge thee think
nothing hard to which he calls thee, nothing sharp which he bids thee
endure. As the knight of the olden time consecrated himself to the
Crusade, and wore the red cross on his arm, fearing not to meet death
at the hands of the Infidel, if he might be thought a soldier of the
Lord, so we too would face all foes for Jesus' sake. We want, only
refined and purified, and delivered from its earthly grossness, we want
the chivalrous spirit once again in the church of God. A new crusade
fain would I preach: had I the tongue of such a one as the old hermit
to move all Christendom, I would say, "This day Christ, the altogether
lovely one, is dishonored: can ye endure it? This day idols stand where
he should be and men adore them; lovers of Jesus, can ye brook it? This
day Juggernaut rides through the streets on his bloody way, this day
God's Christ is still unknown to millions, and the precious blood
cleanses not the nations, how long will ye have it so? We, in England,
with ten thousand Christian hearts, and as many tongues endowed with
eloquence, and purses weighted with gold, shall we refuse our gifts,
withhold our witness, and suffer the Lord to be dishonored? The church
is doing next to nothing for her great Lord, she falls short both of
her duty and of the grim need of a perishing world. O for a flash of
the celestial fire! Oh, when shall the Spirit's energy visit us again!
When shall men put down their selfishness and seek only Christ? When
shall they leave their strifes about trifles to rally round his cross!
When shall we end the glorification of ourselves, and begin to make him
glorious, even to the world's end? God help us in this matter, and
kindle in our hearts the old consuming heart-inflaming fire, which
shall make men see that Jesus is all in all to us.
II. Thus I have shown you the characteristics of the text, and now I
desire to USE IT IN THREE WAYS FOR PRACTICAL PURPOSES. As time flies,
we must use it briefly.
The first word is to you, Christians. Here is very sweet instruction.
The Lord Jesus "is altogether lovely." Then if I want to be lovely, I
must be like him, and the model for me as a Christian is Christ. Have
you ever noticed how badly boys write at the bottom of the pages in
their copy-books? There is the copy at the top; and in the first line
they look at that; in the second line, they copy their own imitation;
in the third line, they copy their imitation of their imitation, and so
the writing grows worse and worse as it descends the page. Now, the
apostles followed Christ; the first fathers imitated the apostles; the
next fathers copied the first fathers, and so the standard of holiness
fell dreadfully; and now we are too apt to follow the very lees and
dregs of Christianity, and we think if we are about as good as our
poor, imperfect ministers or leaders in the church, that we shall do
well and deserve praise. But now, my brethren, cover up the mere copies
and imitations, and live by the first line. Copy Jesus; "he is
altogether lovely;" and if you can write by the first line, you will
write by the truest and best model in the world. We want to have
Christ's zeal, but we must balance it with his prudence and discretion
we must seek to have Christ's love to God, and we must feel his love to
men, his forgiveness of injury, his gentleness of speech, his
incorruptible truthfulness, his meekness and lowliness, his utter
unselfishness, his entire consecration to his Father's business. O that
we had all this, for depend upon it whatever other pattern we select,
we have made a mistake; we are not following the true classic model of
the Christian artist. Our master model is the "altogether lovely" one.
How sweet it is to think of our Lord in the double aspect as our
exemplar and our Savior! The laver which stood in the temple was made
of brass: in this the priests washed their feet whenever they offered
sacrifices; so does Christ purify us from sin; but the tradition is
that this laver was made of very bright brass, and acted as a mirror,
so that as often as the priests came to it they could see their own
spots in it. Oh, when I come to my Lord Jesus, not only do I get rid of
my sins as to their guilt, but I see my spots in the light of his
perfect character, and I am humbled and taught to follow after
holiness.
The second use to which we would put the verse is this, here is a very
gentle rebuke to some of you. Though very gentle, I beseech you to let
it sink deep into your hearts. You do not see the lowliness of Christ,
yet "he is altogether lovely." Now, I will not say one hard word! but I
will tell you sorrowfully what pitiable creatures you are. I hear
enchanting music, which seems more a thing of heaven than of earth: it
is one of Handel's half-inspired oratorios. Yonder sits a man, who
says, "I hear nothing to commend." He has not the power to perceive the
linked sweetnesses, the delicious harmonies of sounds. Do you blame
him? No, but you who have an ear for music, say, "How I pity him: he
misses half the joy of life!" Here, again, is a glorious landscape,
hills and valleys, and flowing rivers, expansive lakes and undulating
meadows. I bring to the point of view a friend, whom I would gratify,
and I say to him, "Is not that a charming scene?" Turning his head to
me, he says, "I see nothing." I perceive that he cannot enjoy what is
so delightful to me; he has some little sight, but he sees only what is
very near, and he is blind to all beyond. Now, do I blame him? Or if he
proceed to argue with me, and say, "You are very foolish to be so
enthusiastic about a non-existent landscape, it is merely your
excitement," shall I argue with him? Shall I be angry until him? No,
but I shed a tear, and whisper to myself, "Great are the losses of the
blind." Now, you who have never heard music in the name of Jesus, you
are to be greatly pitied, for your loss is heavy. You who never saw
beauty in Jesus, and who never will for ever, you need all our tears.
It is hell enough not to love Christ! It is the lowest abyss of
Tartarus, and its fiercest flame, not to be enamoured of the Christ of
God. There is no heaven that is more heaven than to love Christ and to
be like him, and there is no hell that is more hell than to be unlike
Christ and not to want to be like him, but even to be averse to the
infinite perfections of the "altogether lovely." The Lord open those
blind eyes of yours, and unstop those deaf ears, and give you the new
and spiritual life, and then will you join in saying, "Yea, he is
altogether lovely."
The last use of the text is, that of tender attractiveness. "Yea, he is
altogether lovely." Where are you this morning, you who are convinced
of sin and want a Savior, where have you crept to? Are you hidden away
where my eyes cannot reach you? At any rate, let this sweet thought
reach you. You need not be afraid to come to Jesus, for "he is
altogether lovely." It does not say he is altogether terrible–that is
your misconception of him; it does not say he is somewhat lovely, and
sometimes willing to receive a certain sort of sinner; but "he is
altogether lovely," and therefore he is always ready to welcome to
himself the vilest of the vile. Think of his name. It is Jesus, the
Savior. Is not this lovely? Think of his work. He is come to seek and
to save that which was lost. This is his occupation. Is not that
lovely? Think of what he has done. He hath redeemed our souls with
blood. Is not that lovely? Think of what he is doing. He is pleading
before the throne of God for sinners. Think of what he is giving at
this moment–he is exalted on high to give repentance and remission of
sins. Is not this lovely? Under every aspect Christ Jesus is attractive
to sinners who need him. Come, then, come and welcome, there is nothing
to keep you away, there is everything to bid you come. May this very
Sabbath day in which I have preached Christ, and lifted him up, be the
day in which you shall be drawn to him, never again to leave him, but
to be his for ever and for ever. Amen.
PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Solomon's Song 5.
MR. SPURGEON begs earnestly to thank a friend, who desires to be
anonymous, for £500 towards buildings for the Pastors' College, to
commemorate the thousandth Sermon, as also Mr. Thomas Ness for £10, and
a Sermon-reader for a guinea. This last donor believes that at least a
thousand readers might send a guinea each at once, to celebrate the
occasion, and to aid in erecting rooms in which preachers would be
trained, whose theme would be the gospel of Jesus. Mr. Spurgeon is
thankful for the timely aid. Some £3,000 more will probably be required
for the buildings.